


Drink For Me

by laurelhealy



Category: Les Miserables
Genre: M/M, One Shot, valentines day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 09:08:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurelhealy/pseuds/laurelhealy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a one-shot valentine's thing I did. although if I get enough comments I may continue. also my first e x r fic. I hope it turns out right!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drink For Me

Enjolras had it all.  
Or at least, he would, if he gets voted student body president.  
His statements were simple: promote equality and bring the downfall of the hierarchy of the football team and the cheerleaders. He had a solid plan on how he could make it, too. His campaign managers, Joly, Courfeyrac, and Combeferre would make sure of his win. 

Two weeks later, he sat in a state of unmoved despair. How could they pick the quarterback of the team instead of him? He was the better man! He was the one to finally bring down the school's corrupt system! Just because your girlfriend campaigns with you and you don't get votes for being a "single loser who only cares about the school government and not a person around you". That wasn't true, he had a lot of friends. He missed the beginning of his first period moping in the bathroom. As he sat, in stumbled his (sort of) friend R, obviously with a hangover.   
"What are you doing here? You're supposed to be at first period!"  
R held off his question and ran to the toilet, where he visibly puked. After wiping off the vomit from his shirt, he turned.   
"Well if it isn't curly hair McNonPresident." He slurred together.   
"I would have won my election if it weren't for the fact that I have no time and interest in romantic relationships."   
"Suuuuuuuuuure, blondie. Do me a favor and get me a paper towel, will ya? I still think there's barf on my pants."  
Enjolras found himself actually handing a paper towel to the boy whose breath stunk of alcohol.   
"Thanks." He muttered.  
"You didn't answer my question, what are you doing here?"  
R pointed at his stained shirt like it was the most obvious thing in the world and started getting another one out of his backpack full of spare clothes and food. No books Enjolras could see.   
Enjolras couldn't help but stare at him as he got out of his shirt to put on another one. That dude was absolutely ripped. He sloppily put on a Nirvana T-Shirt and brushed his matted hair into a slightly less matted version of it.   
"What're you doing here, now that I think of it?"  
His eyes widened.  
"I wanted to be rebellious to the unjustified ways of the school council judging."  
"So you're sad you lost the election and want to cry in here about it."  
"No."  
"Yes."  
"I said no, and I mean it!"  
"/No/ You don't."  
"I'm going to first period."  
"Have fun with that."  
Enjolras got his books and started to walk to class.   
"Wait!"  
He turned.  
"What is it now?"  
R flourished a yellow paper at him. "It's a pass, you can get into class like that. Take it, I already forged a signature."   
Enjolras nodded.  
"And one more thing?"  
"I am trying to get to history! What do you want?"  
"Come to my house. Six pm tonight."  
Enjolras found himself nodding. What could be so bad that he would find himself at the deathly booze closet R dwells in? Walking to first period, he stopped and ran into the bathroom again, handing the other guy a piece of paper, stammering. "Here. It's my phone number if you need any help with studying." R took it, smiling. "Thanks."

The rest of the day went by in a blur.  
Well, other than the chunk of cheese whiz stuck in his hair during lunch, it was a decent and boring day. His friend Marius Pontmercy had yet another make out session with his girlfriend Cosette, much to Eponine Thenardier's despair. She finally shrugged it off and looked in disgust with everyone else at what seems to be two cannibals trying to eat each others' mouths. It was repulsive.   
He wanted to do it.

All he thought about the rest of the day was visiting R. 

When the time finally came, he stared at himself in the mirror. Straightening his red bow tie on his ivory collared button-up, he carefully put on a red tail-coated jacket. Brushing his hair, he stopped mid-brush. Why was he dressing up all nice? R didn't have any sisters, he thought.  
Ah well.

BZZT! BZZT! His phone vibrated. It was a text from a blocked number.  
"Meet me at the Rue Plumet. We will go from there.  
-R"  
Rue Plumet? That was where Cosette lives, known because Enjolras had to join Marius and Courfeyrac to the Rue Plumet many, many times. He shrugged it off and walked there anyway. It was a nice February Friday night, no wind chill and a warm day. The sun was setting and he thought as he walked.   
How was he going to explain that he did this?   
What did R mean by "go from there"?   
Why was he doing this?  
Probably to shrug off the slump he was in. As he wandered the Plumet, he heard a noise in the dark with the sound of a voice from the street. "Follow me." R stumbled into the plain, grabbing his hand. Enjolras, now confused, went with him. They ran across the streets and alleyways. For a moment, he forgot he was even sad, roaming the streets free of all responsibility. He let out an awkward laugh and quickly suppressed it. It was, for the first time, freedom of everything.   
Maybe this wouldn't be a so-bad night.

They stopped on a street on the complete other side of town.   
"We're here." He exclaimed.

It was a pretty normal house, much better than the tattered shack right outside a bar like Enjolras expected.   
It was nice. Taking keys out of his shirt pocket, R unlocked the front door to his house.   
"Well, what are you waiting for? Come on in!"  
He followed into an average suburban house, nothing that out of the ordinary. 

"Follow me again. One last time."

They casually walked into R's basement, and the thing Enjolras was most expecting was right there.  
A huge bar with bottles upon bottles of alcohol. The boy sat in a stool and patted the one next to him for his friend to sit in.  
"Here. I'll get you something. What type of wine do you prefer?" 

"I-I don't drink."

"What kind of senior doesn't drink? Have you ever had any kind of alcohol before?"

"No.  
and R, why did you invite me here anyway?"

He laughed as he pulled a cork out of a bottle and started pouring it into bottles.

"Because you seemed depressed. And stop it with the gang name, it makes me sound like a drunken thug. Call me Grantaire."

Grantaire. The name sounded fresh in Enjolras's mind, like a whole new side of who he thought to be an alcohol addict with no charming personality traits whatsoever. He was kind, he was witty, he was cute.  
He was?  
Yep, he was. That was agreeable.   
"I don't want any.  
Grantaire."

He chuckled at his name being used so non-casually. 

"Come on, just a drink. You'll like it."

"No."

"Please?"

"I said no, and I mean no."

"Come on Enjolras. Drink with me."

"I am not."

"Then drink for me. You've been really down lately, and it pains me to see you stumbling around like that.   
And I want to see what kind of drunk you are. I bet you're the giggly kind."

He rolled his eyes and muttered.

"What was that?"

"I said 'fine, pass me a glass.' But I'm not getting drunk."

"That's good enough for me."

Grantaire slid a glass across to him, and he stared at it conflictingly. 

"We can drink it on three if you want. Together."

He nodded.

"One, two, three!"

Enjolras drank from the wine glass. It was a bit of a sour taste, but managed to finish it. He turned to see Grantaire laughing at him. 

"That was great. You looked like a kid eating a lemon. It was so cute!"

"Cute?"

"Yeah, you're freakin' adorable. Everyone knows that."

"I am NOT adorable! I am a very dedicated person to overthrow the corruption of the government!"

"That's what makes you so cute."

He wanted to scream. He wasn't cute. To prove his not-cuteness, he would scream it from the heavens.

"Absolutely adorable." Grantaire booped his nose. Okay, now he was messing with him. He started yelling.

"Okay, Grantaire or R or whatever, I am definitely not cute! Why do you say that! I am the farthest thing, exactly, and I'd prefer it if you refrained from making the remark ever again."

Grantaire got in close and whispered in his ear. 

"A-dor-a-ble. Enjolras, accept the fact you're super cute."

Enjolras viciously shook his head.   
Was this flirting?  
If it was, he kinda liked it.

Grantaire grabbed his arm.

"C'mon, let's watch a movie or something. We don't have to be drunk tonight."

He pulled him onto the couch in a warm head-resting-on-his-hair position.   
Enjolras had never thought he'd be doing this in a million years, but with Grantaire it just felt...right. He looked up at the stubbly chin resting in his curly blonde hair. He smiled and got up next to him, his cheek touching his. It felt all fluttery inside, snuggling up to him like this. Or snuggling up to anyone like this. But it was absolutely perfect, and he wanted to stay like this forever. 

"Did I get you out of your slump yet?"

He laughed. "Yes, you did."

"Well then, that means you owe me."

"Owe you what?"

"Kiss me, Enjolras. Right here." He tapped his lips. 

"Why are we doing this? Are we drunk?"

"I actually don't care if we are. Just kiss me, Blondie. Okay?"

Enjolras smiled wide. "Okay."

And they kissed. Oh, what a kiss it was.  
It was the start of something that night, and good or bad, they could never tell.

**Author's Note:**

> comment if u want more idk


End file.
